


Slash and Bite

by ravenhairedtrickster



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Shifter, eruri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:51:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenhairedtrickster/pseuds/ravenhairedtrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two societies of shifters at war with each other for decades. Blood split by the gallon on both sides. </p><p>When Erwin Smith, an Avian shifter and the soon-to-be ruler of Maria Keep, sits at the side of a dying Serpentine woman he throws everything both sides have ever known into the air. In the aftermath of his compassion he receives a visitor who proposes an idea that could either end the war or make it a thousand times worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My first multi-chapter fic for the AOT/SNK fandom.
> 
> It's based loosely off the book by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (which is far superior), with changes made to the over all story and plot. 
> 
> Any feedback would be wonderful and as always, enjoy.

It was a warm breeze that met him in the air, smoothed over his feathers, and a bright sky rather than the pale cold he expected. With keen eyes he mapped out the latest damage, desolation and ruin strewn across the no mans land, Trost. The district between was once farmland and spanned between two vastly different societies.

It had been a rich place, pregnant with bounty that came to fruit each summer - no more. It was laid to waste, centuries of war long since destroyed the soil. Anything grown turned rotten and, though plump, tasted of death.

Bodies littered the ground, some shifted, others in the grotesque middle of transformation and all equally stiff in deaths embrace. The stench of it traveled on the rising currents and each breath caused his stomach to twist within his gut. 

He saw her as he banked to the right, wing tip dipping. She laid sprawled amongst the bodies of birds she had no doubt taken down. The evidence was in the blood and feathers and weapons scattered, the neat slices that marred their flesh the work of a skilled snake. 

He landed with all the grace his boots sinking into mud could afford, a flourish of his wings before an easy transformation. From here he could see her wounds, an arrow broken at the shaft lodged deep within her gut. An arrow wasn’t enough, he knew from the dark tendrils that crawled just beneath her skin that poison coursed through her veins. Avian poison. 

As he neared he didn’t miss the lack of hiss, or the sneer he’d expected. She stared up at him with even pale eyes, silver almost and impassive. Dark curls fell around her shoulders and face in inky waves. Her lips seemed shockingly red and surprisingly not the least bit chapped or bloody despite her condition. 

He kept his distance at first, wary of the fangs all birds grew up fearing. The ones that sunk deep into flesh past feather and injected something that was rarely treatable. 

“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners, fledgling?” 

Her voice startled him. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Manners you dumb bird,” she said, voice silky and he averted his gaze in case she was trying her magic on him. “You know, staring is very impolite. And come off it, I’ve no strength to hypnotize you now, you’re free to look away.”

He dared to glance at her, still keeping his eyes well away from hers. He studied the intricate details of the sheath at her hip. “You’re not afraid of me?” He asked.

She snorted then groaned. “I’m dying, I’ve no fear of some youngin hawk who can give me only what I’ve already got, death.” 

He nodded then strode forward. He didn’t have to see the flash of fear that crossed her eyes to know it was there. He dropped down beside her, sat with his legs crossed, his hand never once coming in range of his dagger. 

“Then you don’t mind if I sit with you?” 

He looked at her now yet was unable to read the expression on her face. 

“If it makes you feel better,” she muttered. “I don’t have long anyway.”

“We don’t have to talk,” he murmured and leaned back. He stared up at the sky in silent wonder, snuck a glance at her to see she was doing the same.

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, until the sun began making its final descent, until her ribs rattled with each breath she took. She didn’t hide the pain now, couldn’t and when a particularly bad wave hit her she gritted her teeth and grabbed at the ground beside her. 

“Why?” She asked finally, breaking the silence. 

“Why, what?”

“Why are you still here?”

He shrugged and didn’t mind in the least as he reached forward to take her hand. Her warmth collided with a hawks natural cool and he stared at the sky once more.

“No soldier deserves to die alone.”


	2. > 1

Oluo was furious, thankfully Erwin had experienced plenty of his scoldings. Besides, the magpie often overstepped his boundaries and forgot the difference in their individual statuses. He couldn’t blame the other however, even if his hazel eyes seemed anything but soft at the moment.

“What am I suppose to do with you?” Oluo exclaimed, waving his hands about. It was a rare display of frustration. He kept his eyes set forward, chin held high as the man raved. “Your mother was going to have my tail feathers, or worse, my wings - fuck!” 

He kept his position and stance even as Oluo spat blood onto the marble floor, the aftermath of spontaneously biting his tongue. 

“Well?” Came the impending question. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Erwin cleared his throat. “I apologize for putting you in that position with my mother, she means well, worry gets the best of her at times, overwhelms her. That being said, your anger is completely unwarranted and I won’t have you talking to me in this manner again. As captain of the Royal Flight you are given leniency, and the freedom to speak your mind even to superiors. I value you, Oluo, but I will not tolerate you scolding me as though I am still a child.” 

He stared hard at the man.

“Am I understood?”

In true magpie fashion the other scoffed, but bobbed his head in understanding as he shrugged. 

“As for where I was, it’s none of your concern.” 

Oluo snorted, “The blood and dirt on your clothes say otherwise, I’m sure your mother and the court would agree.”

Erwin narrowed his eyes. “Speak of that to no one, I’m more than your soon-to-be ruler. I trust you, Oluo, with my life, all I ask is that you trust me in return. I came across no danger, just wanted some time to myself.”

Oluo sighed when fixed with Erwin’s pleading gaze. He lowered his eyes in defeat, rolling his shoulders as he put a hand on Erwin’s shoulder. “All right, Erwin,” he said then parroted, “you came across no danger, I trust you.”

“Good.” He replied. He offered the other a reassuring smile. “You are dismissed.” 

And Oluo sauntered from the room. Even after the doors shut Erwin could hear Petra, a pygmy owl, chastising Oluo with a ferocity that was generally uncommon in such small breeds. He chuckled, what she lacked in size was easily made up in determination and heart. He commended Oluo on his decision to take her on. 

He stood in the centre of his chambers, his arms latched behind his back as he held the formal stance of a soldier. Only when he heard Oluo and Petra’s footsteps retreating down the staircase did he unwind. He fell to his bed, exhaling loudly as the plush mattress cradled him. 

His mother would want to speak with him no doubt. She’d have to wait for morning. He barely had the strength to peel his clothing off, stumbling to his dresser and back after donning a thin nightshirt to sleep in. He marveled briefly at how taxed he was from his flight, and when his head hit the pillow he was gone.

Awareness came to him slowly, danger whispered across his sleeping consciousness like a lover's caress. He felt a ghosting pressure, something settle across his thighs, light as a feather it might’ve not even been there. He jolted awake, eyes wide in the darkness. When they adjusted he found himself staring up at a pale gaze and he felt the icy freeze of their spell. 

In the fractured moonlight he saw the glint of a dagger being drawn and suddenly felt the burning fire of the snake straddling him. He tried to struggle but remained still, he wondered if the other could feel the rapid thud of his heart.

Minutes passed yet the snake didn’t move, kept poised with weapon in hand at the ready. Erwin stared powerless into the face of death and one question ran past his mind. What had he done to deserve the fate soon to befall him, what had he done to earn him the honour of having his throat slashed by an assassin. 

“Why?” He choked out after much concentration. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, like it didn’t belong. Wrong.

“She said you held her hand,” came the reply, bitter and sharp but not entirely unkind. “I had to see for myself, it’s unheard of. A fucking overgrown turkey like you, all pristine and perfect and bred to obey.”

Erwin was lost as he listened. The snake rambled on, sounding desperate, confused and all the more dangerous. “I didn’t believe it but he _smelt_ you on her, scent never lies. It disgusts me, the thought of you touching her, so I came to kill you, to end this fucking war - and yet here I find you, sleeping, at my mercy. I could’ve slipped it between your ribs, ended you already...”

There was a lull, the snake trailing off. Pale eyes slipped away, guard let down and Erwin surged up, spell broken as he flipped the other over.  
Where the snake had agility he had strength and he roughly pressed the other into the bed, twisting a thin wrist until the dagger clattered to the floor. 

His palm pressed to the others throat and he felt the warmth and flutter of the snakes pulse as he bore his weight down. He kept his gaze down, not daring to look at his face for fear of getting trapped once more.

“And yet the same,” the snake gulped against the heel of his palm, “compassion you showed her, I’ve shown you.”

Erwin could feel the snakes eyes on him as the next words tumbled past soft gasps. 

“Will you kill me now, hawk?” 

It was a challenge plain as day and Erwin saw all he could accomplish if he just pressed a bit more. If he crushed the surprisingly small body beneath him. It was tempting. 

Compassion stayed his hand. He eased off the other, stumbling backwards off the bed, putting distance between them. He dared to look at the snake now. He laid disheveled, surrounded by well slept in sheets, bathed in the scent of bird and sweat and fear. 

His eyes were half lidded, naturally narrow and low set, however the rest of his face was boyish almost, smooth and unmarked. Hair like midnight parted at his temple, just teased thin eyebrows. 

As he gathered and picked himself from the bed Erwin watched in fascination, though every bit of instinct in him screamed at him to shift and fly away. The snake moved smoothly, seemed to flow from the bed to the open balcony and now fully in the light of the moon Erwin saw the blacks and greens he wore. 

“I don’t like you,” the snake hissed as he perched on the railing. “But you’ve shown more fucking sense than any of the hawks before. Maybe we can come to a compromise.” And without anything further the other seemed to drop from the balcony. 

Erwin stood stunned for several minutes following the snakes sudden disappearance. His mouth felt dry like sawdust and for the longest time he couldn’t find his voice. He paced as he went over everything that had happened, cataloguing each word and movement. He mulled over the snakes comment. A compromise. 

The others meaning behind the word was unknown, what kind of compromise could they come to with decades and generations of blood and suffering on both sides.

When the sun began to rise he made his way back to his bed and tore off the sheets. The evidence needed to be destroyed, or hidden, at least until he had his thoughts in order. As he bundled the fabrics up for storing he froze. 

_Maybe we can come to a compromise._

Left behind, intentionally he was sure, the snakes dagger laid at his bed side. And suddenly one thing became quite clear.

He stuffed the sheets into one of his chests before gathering the weapon up. It was light in his hands, seemed breakable and useless in his grasp but in a shifter of the opposite side this was a weapon crafted personally. It was not so easily forgotten unless…

He hid the dagger. A visit was in order.


	3. > 2

Eloise Smith was a frail women, with delicate, bony hands a testament to her age she looked and played the part of senior counsel member to a T. And despite her physical weakness she was no push over. 

The difference in their stature was painfully obvious when she entered Erwin’s chambers, straight backed with her lips pressed into a thin, displeased line. She just came to his shoulder in height, long blonde hair turned silver cascaded around her shoulders, her eyes icy like the first frost of winter. 

“Erwin,” she snapped, breaking the illusion of fragility. “What are these rumours I’ve been hearing.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, though stood at attention. 

“I couldn’t tell you as I haven’t heard any myself.”

Eloise crossed her arms, a scowl painting her face. “Don’t lie,” she said, sniffing out his blatant dishonesty as only a mother can.

“What did Oluo report?” He asked.

“Only that your absence was nothing of importance.” She snorted, a foreign improper noise when it came to Avians. “I told him if he spewed anymore lies at me I’d have his tongue and then what would he bite on.”

Erwin had the mind to laugh at her latter comment but he kept his amusement in check. It would do him no good to antagonize her. “Oluo was right,” he began before she interrupted him. 

Her fingers were cold and powerful regardless of her age as she gripped his chin, forcing him to look at her face. Their eyes met, perhaps even warred as she spoke, her words equally cold as her skin. “Oluo is a fool, Erwin, and I am not. You may be able to fool him, put a blind over that petty magpie but you won’t succeed if you try the same with me. You’re my son and the last thing I want is to lose you.” Her voice softened now. 

“No more of these lone patrols, or whatever you’re calling them. There’s a war happening. How easy it would be if one of those scaleys knew you put yourself at risk.”

She released him and stepped back. Her palms ran along the length of her dress for several seconds before she straightened and turned to the door. She stopped within its frame, glancing over her shoulder. “I haven’t heard a ‘yes, mother’ yet, Erwin.”

He cleared his throat, though as he spoke he felt the lie still lodged there. “Yes, mother,” he croaked, and with a pleased nod she took her leave.

He spent the remainder of the day attending court and walking through the market. Court was a boring affair, but something that had to be done, if not suffered through. When his twenty third birthday rolled around in a few days he’d be expected to attend daily. Ruling had it’s cons, as did the preparation. 

The market, however, was a wonderful place. Full of merchants of every kind, artists who brought life to each stroke of their brush, creating winding landscapes, depicting a beautiful Trost before the war and much more. They were his favourite. 

When he toured the market Oluo was ever present at his heels and Petra too. Both of the Royal Flight they accompanied him wherever he went. Some liked to say for security purposes but Erwin despised hearing it put that way. The Keep was impenetrable - the snake perched on the railings, bathed in moonlight came fluttering to his mind - there was no need for soldier protection, let alone the elite escorting him around like he was some willowy sapling who’d be easily subdued. 

The day seemed to drag on, last for hours upon hours until finally he climbed the stairs to his chambers. As the setting sun licked at the sky in fiery tendrils he gathered the dagger and placed it on his bed as he made his final preparations. He debated over bringing his own weapon for some time, and then opted to leave it. He wasn’t going to fight. 

When there was no trace of the sun and all that shone was the moon behind a few wispy clouds he shifted and took flight, the dagger held, albeit awkwardly, in his talons. Years of studying maps told him where the Palace was, though even if he hadn’t been interested in the geography of the land he would’ve found it. If only by following the desolation and ruin until he came across it.

He landed on stone, his boots silent on its surface as he shifted. The moonlight revealed little of the Palace. All he could make out was stone, perhaps carved high, all detail was lost to darkness. 

Erwin held the dagger in his hand as he began forward, and he had only taken a handful of steps - the feathers standing on edge on the nape of his neck - before something kicked his feet out from under him. He fell hard, had the mind to struggle when he felt the prick of steel against his throat. 

Instinctively he stilled, going limp as a hand gripped his hair. A face nuzzled against his neck, pressed against its side and his pulse quickened. Fear surged through him. He shut his eyes, mentally berating himself for falling for such a simple trap. Leave it to a snake to play fair, trick him into coming only to murder him on Serpentine lands and claim self defence. Clever and there was nothing he could do about it. 

He braced himself for the impending bite, gritted his teeth and breathed hard through his nose - and what followed was the sound of a deep inhale. 

It puzzled him for a moment. And then realization dawned on him.

The snake had… _smelled_ him. 

“Hmph,” was the noise the other made, then a chuckled murmur, “Not too shabby, for a bird.”

Offence spiked within Erwin’s gut, stupidly so since it wasn’t exactly the proper time to feel offended, not when he had a knife at his throat and fangs so close to his flesh. Still, pride momentarily outweighed common sense. 

“You’re not the owner,” he dared to growl. 

“Correct.”

“I came to return the dagger, he left it.” _When he came to murder me in my sleep._

“I know.” 

The snake hauled him up. Once on his feet Erwin felt sluggish, like his knees were weak. He scowled, wondered if it was the others magic or if it was fear and fading adrenaline that caused it. 

“I want to talk to him,” Erwin demanded and refrained from groaning when the others hand tugged. His scalp ached for a painful few seconds and then the hand was gone, replaced only by the uneasy sensation that crawled up his spine. 

“He’s been waiting.” The snake said and stepped into view. Erwin felt all self control drain from him when he looked at the other. Tall, like him, and blonde too. Hair hung over his forehead in bangs that cast shadows over his face. His jaw was accented by the beard running along it. 

Erwin frowned in the face of his helplessness, that frozen feeling from the night before becoming obvious. It crept down his arms, to his fingertips and back up again, numbing him to everything. 

“Follow me.” Came the command. He followed, like a pawn, pliable and willing. As they entered the Palace through heavy doors the brightness within blinded him for several seconds. 

In those seconds he managed, “Who’s _he_?”

The snake turned, a smirk lighting the earthy hazel of his eyes.

“Our ruler, of course,” he replied. “Levi.”


	4. Chapter 4

The Palace was unlike the Keep in every sense of the word. The halls were low and winding, made of thick rock, the floors covered in extravagant carpet. The keep was delicate, high with ceiling that stretched up like the sky in order to allow those shifted to fly with ease. 

The heat was another difference. It struck Erwin hard, weighing him down as sweat beaded at his temple. Avians were naturally cool, designed to keep cool whilst flying. So used to wind flittering through his wings he hadn’t expected something so simple as temperature to bother him. 

His palms were sweaty by the time the snake in front of him came to a halt, and the tunic he wore clung uncomfortably to his skin. He stifled his panting when the snake turned and hoped to maintain some dignity by straightening his back.

If the other noticed he didn’t mention it, instead he stepped to the side and Erwin felt the magic over him dissipate, easing away until he stood there in control of himself once more. 

“Don’t take it personally,” the snake said almost boredly. “It was a necessary precaution.”

Erwin nodded curtly but spared the snake no glance. Serpentine magic left something like a bad aftertaste, it lingered in the form of a tremor in his fingers, as though his body recognized the threat but didn’t realize it was gone. 

He fisted his fingers, pressing short nails into the meaty part of his palm and shifted so he held his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat, though even as he did so didn’t trust himself to not sound shaky.

“Levi,” he said, testing the name. It rolled easily off his tongue. He fixed the snake with a glare, tried to look as intimidating as possible. “When can I speak to him?”

“Right now.” Came the reply and the other pushed two large doors open. 

They swung obediently on their supports and gave way to a room painted in blues and whites. It struck him as odd as he stepped inside, the snakes with their earthy colours, accented only by stark reds and somewhere within the Palace there laid a room decorated with the colours of the sky. 

He almost didn’t notice the doors shutting behind him, or the breathy hiss that escaped the small body sitting curled in a nest of blankets before him. Too late he remembered to keep his eyes averted but when their eyes met he felt nothing but the sweat trickling down the small of his back. 

Relief flooded him as the snake - Levi - unraveled himself and stood, a taunting smile on his face. 

“You fear it,” he murmured and Erwin thought he might’ve heard understanding in his tone. “As you should, hawk. You’d be a fool not to.”

“Aren’t I a fool already?” Erwin retorted calmly. He tossed the dagger forward, a look of disgust painting his features as it landed far short of Levi’s bare feet. “I understand you though, killing me on Avian land would be too obvious.”

The look on the snakes face perplexed him, he shifted his weight, suddenly unsure as Levi crossed the distance between himself and the dagger. Erwin watched as the other picked the blade up carefully, thin fingers running along its surface, a greeting of two old friends. 

“You think I’m going to kill you?” He asked and Erwin started when pale eyes shot up to meet his. 

“I think you’ll try.”

Levi smiled and for the first time Erwin saw snake fangs. They protruded where a humans canines were, slightly larger but nothing of every hatchlings nightmares. As benign as they looked he reminded himself they were dangerous.

“You insult me, bird. I wouldn’t just try, I’d succeed.” And with something of a shrug Levi straightened and all the tension in the room melted away, though in the pit of his stomach Erwin had no doubts the lithe creature before him could kill him if he wished it. 

Their first meeting came to mind, how slight and tiny Levi had been beneath him, and how much power the raven haired snake had held over him, how those eyes had hypnotized him. The memory sent a shiver down his spine and, despite the heat, turned him cold for a moment. 

He cleared his throat, as if doing so would rid him of the thought of being subdued by such a creature. 

“So why bring me here if not to kill me?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Levi replied, his voice like honey, rolling thick off his tongue. A bead of sweat trickled down the length of his face as he cocked his head in confusion. The snake laughed. “You’re here to help me stop the war.”

Erwin swallowed thickly. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to. Not yet at least.” Levi said and turned his back. “Admittedly it’s a rather mad idea but both sides are desperate enough. Correct me if I’m wrong, Erwin, but you’re tired of the bloodshed.”

“Of course, I am,” he snapped. This earned him a smirk.

“Too many have died and fighting for what? Peace?” Levi scoffed, his voice held a hint of pain, sadness even, though Erwin couldn’t see his face to confirm. “We’ll never have true peace unless..”

“Unless what?”

There was a pause then: “True peace is having one society not two. A joined body of Avian and Serpentine. A compromise if you will.”

Erwin stared dumbfounded at the other, only snapped his jaw shut when Levi turned to face him. He appeared calm, as if he hadn’t just suggested the most irrational thing ever. 

“That’s your compromise?” He said softly, knowing his voice betrayed the shock he felt. “Are you forgetting the decades of hate on both sides? The sheer difference in our individual existences?” 

Levi looked to answer but Erwin cut him off, unconsciously taking a step forward.

“And what of the joining. Royal blood would be required to marry, as a symbol if nothing else.” He stared desperately at the other, wondering how far Levi’s madness went. “Would you take a hawk, me, as your mate, with the knowledge that it might not even work?”

The snaked regarded him evenly. 

“Perhaps you are not the hawk who sat with one of my people while she died. Maybe not the one who showed compassion when I came to kill you. Because, hawk,” and he hissed the label now. “If it meant I had to sleep with your frozen ass every night for the rest of my life and deal with that high and mighty attitude you got… If it meant I could give my people peace then, yes, I would take you as my mate regardless.”

Speechless, Erwin stood there for more than several seconds, simply digesting what the other had said. When words could finally come he asked: “Who was she. The dying woman.” 

The glare Levi gave him caused the feathers at his nape to stand on end. “My sister,” he spat. “Now get out.”


End file.
